Beauty and The Beast
by I'veMadeItMyOTP
Summary: Katyusha Bragninsky was the kind of girl who wasn't very loud. Wasn't very valient. But when one of the only people who understood her is taken away, she must sacrifice herself. But she didn't expect to fall in love. AU. First KatMano story. Pretty freakin' boss.
1. Chapter 1

Katyusha teared down the long corridor, her whole body soaked. Her breaths were ragged and tired as she ran the same way she had been for hours looking for her prince. Of course she was a mess from falling into the still lake in front of the castle she was being held captive in, and been thrown to the ground by a wild deer which completely killed her heels making it hard to walk, let alone sprint.

But she didn't care anymore. She had said some things to her forced fiancée that she didn't completely mean. She couldn't let him go through with whatever radical idea he had planted in his head. She couldn't lose him after the hell they'd been through.

Limp-sprinting, she picked leaves out of her hair with her gloves hands, sighing. She could _really _be stupid sometimes. Completely messed up in the head. She'd always been that way since her childhood, sensitive and stupid. Not to mention squeaky. The three S's.

Maybe it was that ongoing scar of fear that her brother, Ivan, had permanently etched and every inch of her body. Or even her insecurities about her huge breasts, which most people could not take their eyes off of. Possibly her love of books, being one of the only ones in her family who actually got an education.

But he had accepted her for who she was... Eventually. He wasn't always that caring and accepting. Katyusha remembered that well.

* * *

Katyusha frowned as she read the last page of Romeo and Juliet for the eighth time that day. She never liked how it ended. She believed in happy endings and true love. Not death _because _of love. That was just jacked up. She slowly put down the thick book and started on the next one. Her absolute favourite: The Wizard of Oz.

She'd always enjoyed the vulnerability of Dorothy and felt it portrayed herself nicely. She also enjoyed the mystery and intrigue of it. Sitting on the rim of a fountain under her favourite tree was where Katyusha was everyday, reading and thinking. She was never disturbed. The only person who really did enjoy reading as much as her was her younger sister, Natalya.

Natalya couldn't read, but she loved to listen to Katyusha read. Sometimes, though, Katyusha would teach her the basics of English in secret, because Brother Ivan would not approve. Natalya hoped to learn as much English as she could so she could go to America to get an education.

Katyusha slowly turned the page, and have memorized most of the books she'd read, read the next sentence out loud before her eyes met it. She smiled at the sound of the words rolling off of her tongue. The sentence was quite familiar.

She looked up for a brief moment and her hazel met arrogant red eyes. Despite her strong dislike for the Prussian, she politely greeted,"Oh, hello, Gilbert. I did't see you there. How are you?" Gilbert laughed obnoxiously, throwing his head back. Katyusha rolled her eyes. "I'm fine," Gilbert said, his accent playing with his words. "How about you, gorgeous?"

Kat gathered up her things quietly, and kindly gazed at him. "I'm wonderful, thank you," Katyusha said, taking a few steps away. "I'd love to chat with you, but I've got to go see Mr. Kirkland at the library, sorry. I'll talk to you later, Gilbert." Gilbert nodded and smirked, happily muttering something in German.

Katyusha held her light stack of books to her chest as she made her way to Mr. Kirkland's library. She was very fond of Mr. Kirkland, he was a nice old man who never judged her. He liked the same books as she did. But, most of all, he was like the grandfather she'd never had. Most of her family had been killed in wars, like her parents.

Turning around the corner, she politely waved at Antonio Carriedo who smile back politely at her. She jogged when she reached the sign reading,'Arthur Kirkland's Literature and Oddities', the light catching the spider webs in every crevice of it. Pushing the door open, Katyusha greeted enthusiastically,"Good afternoon, Mr. Kirkland!"

Arthur stirred from his sleep sluggishly, his eyes brightening when they fell on the girl. "Afternoon, love," he said happily. "Looking for anything in particular today?" Arthur always enjoyed having Katyusha around. She was very kind and imaginative, yet slightly timid. She reminded him of his son, Matthew.

"Nothing really today," Katyusha said, scanning the shelves pensively. "Anything new, Papa Kirkland?" Arthur shrugged,"Not yet. There isn't much interest in books anymore, you know?"

Kat sighed. She had been hoping for new books to read for years, though she was perectly happy with reading some books over and over again. "I guess it's the classics then," she said climbing onto the rolling ladder. "Natalya _did _say that she wanted me to read her something other than Cinderella..." she muttered as an after thought.

"May I suggest 'The Ugly Duckling'?" Arthur said happily, watching the girl gently run her finger down the spine of a light green book. "Yes you can, because that would be perfect," Katyusha said thoughtfully. "You know she's almost there. She'll be on her way to America soon. She'll finally get what she needs.

"That is, _if _she doesn't get distracted by your charming son over there." Arthur chuckled. "I'm sure Alfred'll find a way to do that." Grinning, Katyusha stepped off of the ladder with two thick books. "I really hope that she'll make it over there. I would go with her but Brother Ivan would disapprove," she said dreamily.

"Well, of course one day you'll _have_ to leave that old house. You've got too much potential not to."

"Thank you Papa Kirkland, I'm flattered, but there's nowhere else for me to go except backward, I'm afraid."

"Hogwash! You're the most educated young lady I know, deary!"

"You really think so, Papa Kirkland?"

"I know so, Katyusha."

"Someday, maybe. But for now, I have to stay here."

Katyusha leaned against the door with a full stack of books and frowned. "Tomorrow, Papa Kirkland?" she asked, her eyes wide opened as she smiled. Arthur sighed tiredly and replied,"I'll be here."


	2. Chapter 2

Katyusha glanced up at the sky, hoping that it wasn't too late yet. Ivan would be home soon. The sun looked like it was setting. She had an hour or two. That should be enough time to read to Natalya and teach her a few words in English. Taking a few long strides, looking around to check her surroundings.

The haunting house towered over her, enveloping her in a dark shadow. The two-story house was shabby, and falling apart at the seams, as it should be. It _had _suffered through wars and passed down from generation to generation. Katyusha was guessing this would be its last generation, but it _was_ home and would always _be_ home.

Fumbling for her key, she knocked on the door, in case she had lost it again. Finally finding the rusted key, she inserted it into the keyhole and turned it, pulling twice because it was the only way to get the door to open. She gently pushed the door and walked in locking the door behind her. "Natalya?" she whispered. "_Sestra_?"

She moved to the back of the house to where Natalya, the boys, and herself slept. "Natalya?" Katyusha said just a bit louder. "It's Katyusha." Natalya emerged from under the worn quilt. She smiled, her eyes glistening. "_Privet sestre_," she said, happily.

"In English," Katyusha demanded gently, stroking Natalya's light coloured hair. Natalya thought for a moment before stating with much struggle,"H-Hello, se-sister."

Katyusha grinned and kissed her forehead,"That's right! I'm so proud of you." Natalya blushed, smiling. "I brought you something," Katyusha said. Natalya nodded and quietly said,"_Da?_" She, without a word, reached for one of the books Katyusha was cradling in her arms. She studied it, her brow furrowed as her eyes fluttered across the cover.

"Ugly Duckling?" she said, not really asking but stating. "No Cinderella today?" Katyusha shook her head as she sat at the edge of Natalya's twin sized bed. Natalya's face lit up with happiness of being free from the story she had heard at least fifty times that month. "Would you like me to read it to you, _sestre_?"

Natalya nodded and sat up, handing the book back to her sister. She liked how gentle her sister's voice was. _Ideal'nyy._

Katyusha eyed the open door nervously, fearing her brother's(soon to come)unannounced entry. She often told herself that she was older, and therefore, it was technically _her _house and he was _her _responsiblity just like the rest of her siblings. But he had always been the most intimidating of them all, despite his cheery disposition.

He was capable of doing horrible things; that was evident in the fact that he always either was gripping a rusty water pipe or a pickaxe. Katyusha was unsure why though. Everyone feared him enough as it was. As Natalya settled into the perfect listening position and told her brothers, Ravis, Toris, and Eduard to wake up, Katyusha peered out of the door and closed it, returning with a lit candle.

The triplets stirred in they're bunk beds, groaning and rubbing their eyes. "_Proiskhodit?_" moaned Toris from the top bunk. Natalya didn't bother answering because Katyusha had fixed her broken smile and had come back uttering the Russian words for,"Brother will be back soon."

She pressed a finger to her lips and raised her eyebrows, indicating the seriousness of the event that they get caught. Settling herself at the edge of Natalya's bed once again, she opened the book, reading quietly,"'The Ugly Duckling', by Hans Christian Andersen.

'It was so glorious out in the country; it was summer; the cornfields were yellow, the grains were green, the hay had been put up in stacks in the green meadows, and the stork went about on his long red legs, and chattered Egyptian, for this was the language he had learned from his good mother.

"All around the fields and meadows were forests lay deep lakes. Yes, it was right glorious in the country. In the midst of the sunshine, there lay an old farm, with deep canals about it, and from the wall down to the water grew great burdocks so high that little children could stand upright under the loftiest of them..."

As Katyusha read, the three eleven-year-old's and the sixteen-year-old's attentiveness grew. After a while, the triplets had all fallen back to sleep, but Natalya's eyes were wide open throughout the whole story. But soon, Katyusha, too started to nod off. She yawned after the very last sentence and said,"Well, you should get to bed, don't you think?"

Natalya sleepily blinked and lay down, then her sister pulled the quilt up to her chin. "Goodnight, little duckling," Katyusha whispered, placing a chaste kiss on Natalya's nose.

Slowly opening the door so it wouldn't creak, she tiptoed soundlessy down the hall. Ivan was unusually late. Nine o'clock was when he usually came home, because she hadn't _heard _him come in. It would be impossible not to. He had a way of dragging whatever weapon he decided to carry with him, it would always drag on the floor after he was drunk from all of the vodka.

Katyusha didn't approve of this, but no one really listened to her. Especially not Ivan. She turned the rusted brass knob on the door of her own room and lit a candle to penetrate the darkness. It didn't help much, but she never liked to be _completely _in the dark. She took the bobby pins out of her hair and placed them on her bedside table, not bothering to take off any of her clothes to don those for the night.

For once, she didn't even feel like reading. She had the feeling that someone other than her four youngest siblings were in the house. She checked the clock anxiously; about half after nine. Hearing a small screech and the crashing of glass, Katyusha leaned forward and pushed herself of off the bed.

Cracking her door slightly, she put a sleepy eye up to the miniscule crack. Her brother was stumbling around the open space, his platinum blonde hair(almost white)was disheveled, and there was a broken bottle on the warped wood floor. She sighed, worried. He was only eighteen. This was not a healthy life for him.

She watched as he slowly made his way to the kitchen counters leaning on it and groaning. He pulled the cupboard so fast and strong that it almost fell off of the hinges. He seized yet another large bottle of vodka and took a large sip, his pickaxe left unattended in the middle of the floor.

Katyusha knew that Ivan was a clever and practical person, but when it came to drinking all of his morals were lost. She remembered we he was just a little boy with the biggest grin you'd ever seen. She remembered when he was truly happy doing nothing but running around in the grass.

Now he was much older and more power-hungry. He didn't care much for the little things, it was all or nothing to him now.

Her eyes drooped, her face still burning with frustration. She would never understand him or what went on inside that confused brain of his. But he was destined to break someday. Eventually, go insane possibly, and she couldn't help but think she had some part in contributing to what he was then.

The truth was, Ivan didn't blame anyone. He believed it was just who he was. And he, himself would never understand where he was going. That's why he turned to drinking, to drown out sorrows and insecurities he kept locked inside where no one but himself could find it.

Katyusha acted as is she had just woken up and came out of her room, yawning. "Oh, Brother," she said briskly. "You've just come-" Ivan shot her a glare, as if saying do-you-really-think-I'm-an-idiot. "I know you've been teaching them English," he said flatly, taking another swig of the potent drink. "You know I don't want that."

Her gaze fell upon the floor, a burning sensation rising in her throat. Her mouth opened as she looked up, but she closed it promptly. "Why? Don't you want them to be successful?" Katyusha said quietly. "Don't you?" As many times as she pried at this question, the answer would always be that same. But why did it have to be?

When her brother didn't answer, she asked quietly,"Don't you want them to be happy? Don't you want them to be _schastlivyy_?" Ivan didn't look up. In fact he didn't make a sound. He had answered this question too many times to think about his answer. He had heard it too many times _period_.

"Katyusha," he said, his words slurred. "Don't ask me that again." Then, Katyusha knew she had went too far, but felt the need to push further. "Why don't you just let them leave?" she said timidly. "Why don't you let them go somewhere else _other _than the-"

_SMACK! _In one swift move, Ivan had slapped across her face, leaving a large red mark on her cheek. She was forced to the floor by the power of the hit, her face throbbing. Katyusha let out a strangled squeak as silent tears rolled down her cheeks. She drew herself to full height and stumbled into her room a single thought running through her head.

She was going to get out. She _had _to get out. She found and old sack and stuffed it with things she got over the years from Mr. Kirkland. Along with a picture of her mother and father, smiling brightly. She'd find somewhere to go. Anywhere but there. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she pushed the door open and dashed for the door, using her key for the last time.

* * *

**'Kay, so I dedicate this chapter to my fanfic sister, R.K. Iris. I swear, this story wouldn't have happened without you! Mwah!**

**So, next chapter: ROMANO JOINS IN THE FUN! LOL. This isn't fun at all. :P**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi! I'm happy! You know why? Huh, huh? This chapter, is for all of the Ameribel shippers! THE FIRST TIME ALFRED AND NATALYA MET! Maybe a bit too enthusiastic? I guess... :P**

* * *

Natalya blinked, staring into the distance as she fiddled with the end of the white apron tied around her waist. There was no reason to be around here this late at night. Especially for a young girl like her. There was a possibility that she could be molested or worse. She didn't really care, of course, she was never afraid to swing her knife at someone.

The moon cast beams of light shining through the leaves and branches of the tree she was sitting under, they shone on her like spotlights. Natalya felt especially alone then. Being a newly established thirteen-year-old, this was normal, but she always felt that way. She'd never had more than two friends, all of whom only spoke her native tongue; Russian.

But they had all forgotten about her, as they had started to learn English. She was stuck with her annoying little brothers who only talked about the sports they played together. Alone again. Naturally.

Which is why she left the house at one in the morning. She'd rather be alone and by herself than alone and surrounded with people. She slumped, her back against the old and sturdy oak tree, her knees up to her chest. Huffing, she looked up at the sky, dotted with distant stars. She wished she could be like those stars. They depended on the stars around them and there were thousands of them. Stars had friends.

She figured there was no sense in moping. She had a cat at home, Mochi. And who needs people to talk to, anyway? Still, she felt lonely.

Natalya sat in the deafening silence, only broken once or twice me crickets. Violet clouds danced across the deep blue sky, a few staying in front of the moon. It took her a moment to notice that there was someone standing in front of her, even though she was staring straight at him.

He had dirty blonde hair, with a crescent shaped curl on top of his head. His eyes were a clear aqua colour, framed by glasses with rectangular rims. He wore a worn leather bomber jacket, the number fifty etched on the back. Natalya squinted at him, her violet eyes narrowing as if angry.

He simply smiled and said,"Hi!" To Natalya, his enthusiasm was ridiculous. She hung her head, hair framing her face with a mysterious flourish. "_Privet_," she said icily. She wasn't going to use her energy to glare at him, she had lost interest in him fully. "Russian, right?" He asked just as openly as before. "You're that guy, Ivan's, sister, right? I'm Alfred, Arthur Kirkland's son. Well, one of them anyway."

She guessed that his overuse of the word 'right' meant correct. She nodded,"_Da._" He planted himself next to her as he'd known her for the longest time. Natalya glared. "_Chto ty delayesh?_" she snapped just as coldly of before. "_Chto?_"

The boy answered gracefully,"_Chto vy khotite._" There was a distant look about him, he seemed kind and selfless on the outside, but part of the air around him felt vain and obnoxious. And plus, the only non-Russians who knew Russian were spies. At least that's what her stubborn mind thought.

Natalya kept her ice barrier up, staying silent. She didn't like this at all. It didn't feel right. Not one bit. "So, anyway, what's your name?" Alfred asked, distracted. She sighed and muttered something in Russian. "Natalya." Suddenly, she turned her back on him, shivering.

"Hey, you cold?" he asked. "Here." He took off his jacket and put it around her shoulders. Natalya turned and stared at him in surprise. She hadn't understood what he'd said, she didn't know much English, just a few simple questions. "You didn't understand a word I said, did you?" Alfred said, raising an eyebrow. "Oh well. I'm used to talking to myself."

Nat didn't want to know why he was still talking when is was clear that she didn't understand anything he was saying. But it was better than just being alone, she'd said that she needed company. She'd befriend him, but just for a while. She didn't want him to get _too _friendly...

* * *

**I got writer's block at the end... I'm sorry, aru. So, yeah. Next chapter'll be better. Hopefully. :P**


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